Gods of our Childhood
by D.K. Archer
Summary: Splinter18!Leo incest warning.  After returning from his training away, Leo finds some things are too much as he left them.


Title: Gods of Our Childhood

Rating: R

Pairing: Leonardo/Splinter

WARNINGS: Incest of the not-so-fluffy variety

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"So you've finally returned." Splinter said, carefully pouring green tea from the dented kettle into two mismatched cups. Metal and porcelain clinked quietly together. Across the dimly lit room his son was sitting cross legged on a cushion near the bed, ignoring the tea table. Leonardo hadn't kneeled, for this visit. It wasn't that kind of meeting, a fact his father had indicated simply by pointing him to a seat other than at the table.

Leonardo quietly accepted the tea without looking at him, carefully not touching his master's hands when he took the teacup. The candles flickered gently in the breeze from Donnie's ventilation system as Master Splinter lowered himself onto the cushion across from him. He did it with a quiet grunt that made Leo remember that he was getting older.

He looked older, Leonardo realized, studying him discretely under lowered lids. Or maybe it was just his perception. After two years away it seemed his master's fur was getting duller, looking dusty even though Leo knew he brushed it out religiously every morning. He wondered if the folds around his mouth had been there before, or if he'd simply been blind to them, the memory of his father in his youth permanently superimposed over the reality of him now.

Master Splinter sipped his tea with a faint, unintentional slurping sound. Leonardo looked down again and focused on his own cup, and his murky reflection therein.

"I heard you were a ghost in Guatemala." Master Splinter said, vaguely prompting him. When he didn't respond, he continued. "You could not resist the injustices you saw."

Leonardo stared into his cup and said nothing. Sometimes they talked. Sometimes talking was all they did. Tonight wouldn't be one of those nights, and he knew it. His father watched him for a moment, and sighed.

"Drink your tea." Splinter said blankly, taking another drink from his own cup. Leonardo looked down at his cup for a long moment before bolting it like a shot, something to be gotten over with instead of enjoyed. He'd trained himself to like green tea a long time ago, though. As a child, it had tasted like home and father and security. Now, the comparison seemed forced.

Wordlessly, Splinter got up to his feet and took Leonardo's empty teacup, moving across the room to set them on the table, to be rinsed out later. Leonardo braced his hands on his knees and stared resolutely at the floor in front of him. His expression was grim, a look easily made into nothingness as soon as he was under observation again. His father was watching him with sharp, mortal eyes. The look never changed.

Splinter walked slowly back over to him, and stopped in front of his son. Leonardo shut his eyes as he felt claws trace slowly down his cheek, curling under his chin and tilting his face up. His father only waited until Leo opened his eyes again, looking at him blandly from beneath his mask.

"Now that you are back," His father said quietly, "Do you regret your decision to return?"

Leo stared through him for a long moment, carefully controlling his breathing, trying to control his heartbeat. It was up, and stubbornly refused to lie quiet. His stomach was twisting slowly on itself.

"No." he said after a moment.

Splinter nodded once, then bent down and gently placed a kiss on Leonardo's mouth. Leo's eyes scrunched shut and he forced his expression slowly flat again, returning the attention after only a moment. After two years away it felt clumsy. Awkward, unscripted, like he'd never done this before. Splinter's teeth scraped his lip and he let his mouth open, thinking too hard instead of letting pavlovian training take over, hands clumsily grabbing there, pulling fur, things he'd stopped doing years ago. Splinter pulled back and told him to relax, muttering soothingly, stroking his son's cheek with a thumb while Leonardo employed breathing techniques, trying to slow his heartbeat and failing for the first time in nearly seven years.

He heard instead of felt the faint scrape of his father's claws on his shell. Leo breathed evenly and mentally pictured a katana blade, slicing down through each scrambling thought with the sound of metal biting into flesh, cutting each stray, panicking process short with deadly precision. Train of thought disruption. Control. An enforced mental silence. Leonardo leaned up and kissed his father again, more carefully, listening to the sound of his breathing instead of the sound of fabric shifting, fur ruffling, or claws scritching quietly on concrete.

It was a few minutes later that his father confided in him. "I'm afraid I must admit," he said, a little breathless, sliding his hand between Leonardo's legs. His son shifted to accommodate him. "After you had been gone so long, even I had come to believe you would not return."

Leonardo had nodded thoughtlessly, pulling his father's robe away from his shoulders and biting his tongue as that hand found its target. He only shifted onto his back, spreading his legs a little wider, focusing on the rhythm of his own breathing.

Breath in.

And out.

And in…

-------

The television was on, but the volume was off. Hovering outside the door of his father's room, Leonardo straightened his belt, his mask, absently perfecting himself and erasing any evidence of their activities. He hadn't expected anyone to be up. He padded silently towards his room, eyeing the shape in the recliner carefully, knowing Donatello sometimes fell asleep in the chair, snoring quietly over the sound of the TV. But Donnie wasn't snoring, and the television was on mute. Leo got too close to the TV light and Donnie's eyes snapped to him, quickly looking him up and down, struggling to see detail in the near dark.

"Couldn't sleep?" Donatello asked flatly, voice at odds with his body language.

Leonardo stopped where he was, resisting the urge to move further back in the shadows.

"I'm just going to bed now." Leo said, satisfied at his own voice. Even, clean, a little bored sounding. "Maybe you should do the same. It's late."

Donatello shook his head slowly. "I just wanted to wait up and make sure you were okay." He said carefully.

Leo blinked. It had been less than a week since he'd returned, he supposed it was normal for his brothers to be concerned still. "I'm fine." He said. Simple, no elaboration.

Donnie stood up slowly from the recliner, hands fluttering for a moment before settling, crossing his arms over his chest. Leo stuck his feet to the floor and refused to step backwards.

"Well I'll….I'll be in the lab for the rest of the night…if you…." Donnie stopped, looked away, at a corner, then at the floor. He was too tense. He looked over Leo again, furtively. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Leo watched him for a moment. "I'm fine." He repeated slowly.

Donnie nodded and moved off, looking over his shoulder at Leo before stepping into the lab. Leo watched after him for a moment. Donnie had left the door open, an unsubtle invitation, though to what he wasn't quite sure.

Leonardo turned off the television and moved off to his own room in the dark. He didn't turn the light on. He just stopped beside his sleeping mat and quickly, efficiently, stripped off his mask and gear, setting them in proper places in the dark. He kept his mind carefully blank as he lay down, and slowly walked himself through the process of falling asleep.

-------

It was easy to pick up the rhythm again. Too damned easy. His brothers had adjusted to his return and now they were right back where they used to be, predictable patterns following through his day. The weight of his position settled slowly back on his shoulders, Donnie relinquishing command with ease, slipping out of the pattern of life to lock himself in his lab. Ignoring Donnie's careful withdrawal, Leo felt a faint air of stagnation, the status quo being restored just a little too easily.

Master Splinter was unchanging. Leonardo returned to patterns with him, too. It didn't take long to relearn what he'd forgotten, his father calling him every week, sometimes twice a week, for a meeting while the others went to bed. There had been once when they just talked, a well timed question sparking debate that lasted them through two pots of tea. There had been once when Splinter hadn't said a word, hadn't even offered the customary tea, and Leo had known that was a bad day for his Master.

And always, when Leo left to sneak back to his own room, Donnie would be in the recliner, watching television with the sound off. He'd pause to look Leo over, and, with carefully guarded eyes, retreated to his lab, leaving the door open.

It took two months for Leo to follow him into the lab. The day had been a long one. It had started with a fight with Raphael, which Mikey had made worse with his well-meant attempts at distraction, and had finished with nearly getting his head blown off by a lucky shot from a nervous junkie. He got a shallow knick on the jaw, instead, fixed with Neosporin and a Band-Aid that clashed horribly with his green skin. Mikey got out of the situation with a fat lip. He'd put up more of a fuss when Donnie disinfected the cut than when he got it.

Later, when everyone had retired to their rooms and the lair was quiet, Leo went to his father without being asked, sitting down in his room and accepting a cup of green tea, reporting on the clash with a petty gang that had so very nearly gone south. Their nightly patrols usually went better than that.

He hadn't expecting Master Splinter to initiate anything, but he accepted it when he did, calmly slicing away errant thoughts as he went.

An hour later, he walked past Donnie, keeping watch in the recliner. Donnie didn't say anything to him anymore, just retreated silently, always leaving the lab door open when he went. Leo was tired. He was sore from the fight and from the concrete floor in Splinter's room and he just wanted to go to bed and ignore Donnie one more time, like he'd ignored him the past ten times. It wasn't like Leonardo to run away from a conflict, and really, he hadn't quite run, just ignored the possibility of one. This wasn't the same as a gang brawl, though, or a drag out, knock down fight with Raphael. This was Donnie, and Donnie was the quiet one, the smart one, the one who never let on what was going on in that head of his.

Leo took a deep breath, settling his thoughts and quieting the one voice in the back of his mind that was complaining loudly at this course of action. He stepped through the door to Donnie's lab and gently shut it behind him, pressing on it to make sure it was closed. He did not want even the slightest possibility that his brothers might overhear whatever Donnie had to say to him.

Donnie himself was sitting at one of the workbenches; the room was dark save for one work light over his head, placing him in a bright circle in the blackness. He stopped whatever he was doing, and just sat there, not turning to face the door. Leo waited. After a long, uncomfortable standoff, Leo crossed the distance between them, stopping just behind the stool where Donnie sat.

Donnie carefully laid the soldering gun aside and reached into the mess of discard that circled his workspace. He held something out to Leo, expression blank, and Leo blinked at it. It was a bottle of aspirin. "You probably need this." Donnie muttered.

Leo took the bottle and stared at it, but didn't open it. After a moment he put it back on the table.

"So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Leo asked evenly. "You've been trying to get me in here for weeks."

Donnie sighed quietly, deciding to stare at the gizmo he was working on instead of at Leo. "Actually, I was thinking there was something you wanted to talk to ME about." He said. He pointed to another stool across the way, but Leo didn't take the invitation to pull it in and sit. He remained standing, staring down at his brother resolutely. Donnie looked up at him, expression closed, and sighed again. "Would you rather I just come out and say it?"

Leo resisted the urge to cross his arms. Defensive body language would show Donnie he had the edge. He waited.

After a long moment Donnie turned on his stool and looked evenly up at Leo. Leo felt it coming with dread.

"I know what Master Splinter is doing." He said evenly. He stopped there, and Leo stared at him, stomach sinking slowly.

There was an 'and'. He could tell.

Donnie looked at him calculatingly, watching carefully for any reaction. His blank face confirmed what few scientific doubts still lingered.

Donnie swallowed, and crossed his arms. "Are you okay with it?" he asked, voice softer.

Leo stared back at him for a long moment. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He said sternly.

Donnie ignored the 'hint'. "Look," he said, running a hand over his head in a nervous gesture. "Far be it for me to say what two people do in private, but this isn't like that. You know it isn't. This has been going on for a while, hasn't it, longer than you've been eighteen. And even if it hadn't… It's just not psychologically possible to have a healthy sexual relationship with your own--"

Leo slapped a hand down on the table, startling Donnie to jumping. He leaned over him, expression dangerous. "Nothing…Is going…On. Got it?"

Donnie stared right back at him. He wasn't being so much threatened as ordered. He looked away. "Fine." He muttered. "Nothing is going on."

Leo straightened again, already feeling bad for what he was doing. "How did you figure it out." He asked flatly. If Donnie had figured it out, it was within the realm of possibility that Raph could figure it out. Maybe even Mikey.

Donnie turned back to the table, picking up the soldering gun again. "You were gone for a long time." He muttered.

Leo froze. After a moment, Donnie chuckled darkly.

"I never did like green tea."

-------

He couldn't believe how long it took his brothers to settle in at night.

They were well past the age where Leo could order them to go to bed, and midnight was no longer hidden in the depths of sleep. Mikey had been on the sofa amidst a four hour Soul Caliber marathon, Leo watching blankly as he ripped through his opponents, playing some blonde, quick, deadly little girl, fast and light and dangerous like Mikey himself. Leo hadn't said a word, even when Mikey prompted him for praise or comment.

Raph was mercifully in his room, but he wasn't sleeping. Donnie stayed in his lab. He wasn't particularly worried if Donnie was awake for this or not; he didn't want his brother overhearing, but if he did, it wouldn't be any new information.

Mikey didn't give up until he'd beaten the game. Again. Leo kept glancing towards the digital clock in the VCR. Twelve thirty. Twelve forty five. When Mikey finally retreated to his room, looking slightly disappointed at Leo's lack of reaction, Leo waited another thirty minutes.

The light was out in Raphael's room. Being quiet as possible, Leo stalked around the lair, pausing to listen at each brother's door. Mikey was snoring like a band saw. Raph, if he was asleep, was being quiet.

He could hear typing coming from the door to Donnie's lab.

He decided to let it pass.

Moving silently, Leonardo circled back to his room and stood there in the dark for a moment, settling his thoughts while he calmly took his katanas from their stand and put them through the back of his belt.

Thus prepared, it was time to have a talk with his father.

-------

Master Splinter's door was the only door inside the lair equipped with a lock. Leonardo slipped it quietly, pushing the bolt home with an unavoidable click in the blackness of his father's room.

He paused, and listened. The soft breathing from the other side of the room did not falter.

Leo reached across the doorframe, found the light switch, and flicked it.

Suddenly awash in fluorescent lighting, Splinter snapped awake, sitting for one moment in alert confusion until he saw Leonardo at the door, swords at the ready and face grim. He was up in an instant, grabbing his robe and his staff.

"What's happened?" he demanded curtly, tying his robe closed.

His son just watched him. "Nothing." He said calmly. "We're not under attack. Everything's alright."

Splinter stopped, and blinked at him. "Then what's going on?"

Leo took a step away from the door. "We need to talk." He said, impressed by the evenness of his own voice. "You need to sit down."

His father's whisker's twitched and his eyes narrowed, and for a moment Leo thought he was going to be snapped at and sent away, which would make this whole thing that much more unpleasant. But the man just frowned and gestured Leo to one of the cushions on the floor, settling down on his own. Leo sat slowly. He'd gone over this a thousand times in his head this afternoon, but somehow that didn't make him feel any more prepared, now that it was upon him.

Splinter watched him, concern arguing with irritation at his rude awakening. One of his ears twitched.

Leo set his hands on his knees, mentally bracing himself.

"You're going to leave my brother's alone." Leonardo said calmly, stating it as a fact, not a request.

Splinter's brow furrowed in confusion and irritation. "Leonardo, what are you talking about? And why have you awoken me for this?"

"Because I'm not going to have this conversation when the others can overhear it. I know what you did with Donatello while I was gone." He said evenly. "You're not going to do it ever again."

For a moment his father just stared at him, with a look of blank incomprehension. Then he blinked, and frowned.

"Leonardo, what has he told you?" he asked carefully.

"Enough." He said simply. "Enough to know it's going to stop. You're the one who charged me with protecting them. And if I have to protect them from you, I will." Even, flawless. Leo's voice was holding up where his stomach was not.

"Do you honestly think I hurt him?" Splinter demanded, sounding offended. "Donatello, or any of you? You are my sons. I would never do anything to harm you."

The corner of Leo's mouth twitched. "It's stopping." He repeated. "Or I'll stop it for you."

Splinter watched him for a moment, expression unreadable.

"Leonardo, are you threatening me?" he asked quietly.

Leo met his eyes.

"Yes."

Silence. The lines around Master Splinter's mouth hardened.

When he spoke, it was barely above a whisper. "Leonardo, I never hurt you. And I never hurt Donatello."

Leonardo did not respond. His expression remained stern. "Is it going to stop?" he asked flatly.

His whisker's twitched. "You don't seem to have left me a choice in the matter."

"I haven't." Leo said. He stood up from the cushion without waiting to be excused.

At the doorway, Splinter stopped him. "Leonardo," he said quietly. "I never hurt you…."

Leo paused. Then he slid back the lock, and slipped out into the dark without answering.


End file.
